


Moving On

by rangerofdiscord



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Garrosh Hellscream (Mentioned), Khadgar (Mentioned), Thrall (Mentioned) - Freeform, Warlords of Draenor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 04:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5034574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rangerofdiscord/pseuds/rangerofdiscord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since Blizzard decided not to show us Jaina's reaction to Garrosh's death, I decided to write it out for them. Set after the Nagrand finale, in which both Thrall and Khadgar write to Jaina to inform her of his death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving On

A soft breeze blew in from the window, bringing with it the distinct taste of magic that constantly lingered in Dalaran’s air. Outside there was the loud rumble of thunder as another green bolt of lightning shot across the red sky. Closing her eyes and smiling, Jaina blissfully ran a brush through her long, pearl white hair, ignoring the two letters addressed to her on her desk. All she wanted was a few quiet moments to herself, to block everything else out and have a brief respite before diving headfirst back into the war that raged on a distant planet, in a distant time.

As she brushed her hair, working out the knots and feeling it become softer and fluffier, Jaina reflected on the past two years. How much had changed in her life, how different she had become.

The first change was perhaps the most noticable, more physical. When she had been younger, her long hair had been a beautiful golden color, like the sun. Now, closer to forty than thirty, her hair was as white as the White Lady, with only a single gold streak through the front.

Opening her eyes, Jaina stared at her reflection in the small looking gass. Bright blue eyes, the color of ice, stared back at her and she turned her soft pink lips up into a small smile. She was constantly trying to be happier than she was nowadays, but she found that happiness was hard to achieve. It was even harder to force it.

What had happened to her had broken her completely, utterly, and only now was she able to try and mend the broken pieces she was slowly picking up. Yet there was a lot of her still missing. She had needed time to heal, to think about what had happened, and becoming a world leader had not given her that time. In some ways, it had broken her more than it had helped her.

Broken. In a way, she really was. Her mirrors often reflected that as well, as she would periodically shatter them in order to make her reflection show how she felt inside. Broken. Shattered. On her way to mending, but not quite there yet.

Exhaling, Jaina looked away from the looking glass to her desk, where the two letters sat. Daunting, waiting.

Shrugging on a long, violet robe, she stood up and walked over to the long, wooden desk. It was old and intricate, with a marble top that had the design of the Kirin Tor -- the faction of mages that Jaina led -- inlaid on the top.

Biting her lower lip, Jaina brushed her finger tips across the smooth marble surface as she leaned over, picking up the letters in her hands before straightening up.

The first one was of a fancy, heavy paper and had the crimson seal of the Kirin Tor on it. Jaina’s mind immediately went to Khadgar, the young-old Archmage who was one of the members on the Council of Six, the ruling group of the Kirin Tor, and who was currently stationed on Draenor, fighting to save the other world. Frowning, Jaina sat down in the ornate wooden chair at the head of her table, and broke the seal of the envelope, pulling the letter out.

It wasn’t that long, rather it was very short and written in a flowing penmanship. That meant that it wasn’t Khadgar who had written it, but rather his warden, Cordana Felsong. Pursing her lips, Jaina began to read the missive her, lips mouthing out the words as she read it.

“ _To Archmage Proudmoore, leader of the Kirin Tor,_

 _It is Archmage Khadgar’s, leader of the expedition on Draenor beta, wish to inform you that Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Warsong clan in Draenor beta and former Warchief of the Horde on Azeroth, has been killed in a mak’gora combat by Thrall, also known as Go’el, former…”_  The letter went on, but Jaina had dropped the heavy parchment in shock.

Garrosh Hellscream. Dead. The man -- no, monster -- who had stolen everything from her. Destroyed it before she could blink. Her entire city, the people she had protected and helped and grown to love, her family, all gone. Dead. All because of him.

Her mind was a whirl, and she couldn’t remember picking up the other letter, which was made of a rougher, lighter parchment. She didn’t even remember opening it, her mind barely even registered it as the second letter, written roughly by Thrall, repeated what Cordana had said.

Garrosh Hellscream was dead, killed by Thrall in a mak’gora duel in Nagrand earlier that day. The Horde and the Alliance had executed a successful operation that had brought them right into the heart of Warsong territory, bringing them face to face with the monstrous orc himself. The orc had faught against legendary Durotan and the young draenai paladin, Yrel until Thrall had cut in and demanded a mak’gora with the arrogant brute. And Thrall had won.

At the sudden realization that her worst enemy was finally gone, tears welled up in Jaina’s eyes, falling onto the parchment. Raising a trembling hand to her face, Jaina choked back a heaving sob.

“Jaina?” Kalec called out, worried, but Jaina was too overcome with emotion to answer him. She heard him get up and walk over to her, his footsteps soft on the violet carpet. “Jaina, dear, what is it?” he murmured, running his deft fingers through her hair. To answer his question, Jaina held up Thrall’s letter, and silently he took it from her, his eyes scanning the paper.

Closing her eyes, Jaina leaned forward, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. She knew that she should be happy, and a part of her was. Her city, her friends, her family had finally been avenged. Their souls no longer needed to cry out for vengance or justice.

But in reality, she felt more confused than anything else. She was a whirlpool of emotion, a mixture of happiness and sadness and anger. In her mind she kept seeing the mana bomb fall, the violet explosion that destroyed her city. She could remember the churning dark waters, filling up her lungs and threatening to pull her down.

And then there was the anger, rising from deep within her. A thought came back, a memory from Garrosh’s trial. Jaina could remember seeing all of the angry faces, screaming and spitting at the orc, hungry to be the ones to end him. At that moment, she had realized that she hadn’t wanted some stranger, someone who’s life hadn’t truly been affected by Garrosh’s tyranny to be the one to kill him. And yet, fate had seemingly screwed her over once more.

What had Garrosh done to Thrall? “Ruined” his precious Horde? Thrall had not acted against Garrosh when hundreds of innocent lives had been stolen at Theramore, the city she had let her own father die to protect Thrall’s Horde.

But of course, once Garrosh had acted against the trolls, then Thrall had acted. The thought boiled her blood, threatened to overwhelm her. Jaina had forgiven Thrall for his inaction after Theramore, and for his own role in the destruction of the city, yet she still couldn’t help but be angered by the fact that he had killed Garrosh.

Thrall had not deserved the kill, she had, she had earned it. Sure, it hadn’t really been his fault but who else could Jaina blame?

Kalec, noticing how badly Jaina was trembling with her anger, pulled her out of the chair and into his arms. Taking a deep breath, Jaina attempted to force herself to stop crying, but found herself unable to. The tears streaked down her face, blurring her vision. She parted her lips, tasting the too-familiar salty taste of her own tears.

“If I wasn’t the one to kill him, I wanted to at least be there.” she whispered as Kalec brought her to their shared bed and set her down gently. Brushing away some of her tears, he gave her a long frown, his brows knitted together. It was obvious he disapproved, but no matter how much he tried to tell himself that he was more mortal than dragon, there were some things he didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand. This, Jaina’s desire to see Garrosh’s death, was one of them.

It was a constant fight between the two of them. To him, he felt that it was Jaina’s need for vengeance that made her want to be there for the orc’s death. But to Jaina, it was that and also something else. It was about confirmation. Being there to see the killing blow would make it so that Jaina could believe that Garrosh was truly dead, and not just an idea planted in her mind by other people. Kalec just could not grasp that.

“I know love, I know.” he finally said, sitting down next to her. “But think to yourself, would that have really helped you?”

“Yes.” Jaina said empathically, looking up at him angrily. “You don’t understand, I need to be there, I need to see the body. To know that he truly is gone, and that his death isn’t just words on a piece of paper, written by someone I barely know!” she snapped, sitting up. “Wouldn’t you want that? After Deathwing was dead, didn’t you want proof so that you could know he really was gone and not just in hiding again?”

“I’m just worried that this is your need for vengeance, more than your need to have confirmation of his death.”  Kalec replied evenly, his blue eyes gazing into Jaina’s. She glared back at him, her eyes narrowing. What she was about to say would be a cheapshot, she knew, but she had to make him understand.

“After she was freed, Alexstrasza ate the orc who tortured her for so long.” she finally said, and she saw the cool blue eyes flash with annoyance.

“That was different. What he did to her was horrible--”

“And what happened to me wasn’t? What, she gets an out for wanting to make sure the man who made her life a living hell was dead and gone but I don’t!?”

“Of course you do Jaina!” Kalec sighed with exasperation, shaking his head. “But the difference is, Alexstrasza did not let her hatred take over her.”

“You know as well as I do that I have not let my anger and hatred take over me lately. Ever since the trial, I have done my best. I have tried to be nicer, kinder, more patient. I am in negotiations with Lor’themar over the sin’dorei, I didn’t throw Khadgar in the Violet Hold after he deliberately went against my orders, my temper rarely gets the best of me.. But.. I just…” The tears were threatening to start again, and Jaina shook her head, trying to stop them. “What did Thrall do to deserve that kill?” she asked, her voice cracking.

Sighing, Kalec wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his lap. “It had to be done, Jaina. He did what he had to do.” His slim fingers ran through her fine hair, soothing her. “If you must see Garrosh’s body, then we can go together. You can put your fears at rest.” he leaned down to kiss her forehead, and she smiled despite herself.

“I just don’t know how to feel.” she murmured, turning to look up at him. To see the strong jawline, the lips that always seemed to be turned into the ghost of a smile. His sparkling blue eyes that saw so much, but said so little. The half-elven ears poking out of his long, dark blue hair. He was a comfort to her, a comfort she had not known since Arthas.

“Am I happy that he is gone? Am I sad because of what happened? Do I continue to let my anger dominate my emotions?” Sighing, Jaina looked out to the balcony. Dalaran was located near the Dark Portal, meaning the sky was a deep red, with crackling green lightning flashing across the sky. It created a dramatic backdrop to the magical city. “What now?” she asked Kalec, looking back up at him. “Where do I go from here?”

Folding his hand over her own, Kalec smiled down at her. “Now,” he answered. “We go forward.”

 

 


End file.
